His Word
by yesterdaymorning
Summary: A Harry/Hermione fic from Ron's point of view. Ron reflects on his two best friend's relationship and how he feels about it. Grudgingly, he has to admit that they work well together. Because how is there Harry without Hermione? Little angsty from Ron.


His Word

**Disclaimer: Everything to do with Harry Potter is not mine. I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, I'd make him do housework, he'd be highly useful. Unfortunately the pleasure belongs to JK Rowling. Quote is all JKR's. Deathly Hallows, Chapter 19- The Silver Doe.**

**AN: First fic ever! Whoop! Please rate and review so I know whether or not to give up on this whole writing thing. This is set in a version of the future post Deathly Hallows where all three of them return to Hogwarts to take their NEWTs, not just Hermione. Just to clear that up.**

It's the smaller things that hurt more, he realises. There are no symbolic displays of public affection to cringe away from, no declarations of love over the dinner table to block out, no shows of keeping physical contact to pretend he isn't seeing. None of this. It's the little things they do. Like the way that when she's listening to him, she tilts her head to the side a minuscule amount to show he has her undivided attention. And the look of concentration she has on her face as she absorbs every word he says, is only close to the expression she wears when pouring over the newest set text for Arithmancy. He's sure she never paid as much attention to him like that, ever. It's the way that when her hand shoots up in class to answer a question, a smile tugs on the corner of Harry's mouth and his eyes seem to lose their sternness for half a second while he focuses on her. It's the way their hands brush when passing the pumpkin juice to each other in the morning and the way Hermione's fingers slide over Harry's for a fraction longer than would be normal. It's even in the way she stands, always angled slightly towards him, than to the person she's speaking to, and the way he rests his hand on the small of her back as she does so. The way they can glance at each other and seem to hold a whole conversation in that one look that he knows he will never be a part of. And it's the way they can sit in silence, studying together as if nothing's changed. As if this is how all best friends act. Because this is Harry and Hermione. Hermione and Harry. They just are.

As he lies in his dormitory late at night with the curtains drawn close around his bed-frame, listening to Harry's even breath from the bed next to him, he thinks. He's long since accepted their relationship. When people talk of the golden trio, it still exists. He, Harry and Hermione still study together, Hermione still nags both of them for their homework, and sighs in exasperation he knows is only half real when they ask her to check their essays over. They still visit Hogsmeade together, and share a round of butterbeers in The Three Broomsticks before trudging arm in arm up to the castle. But then there are the times when he realises there is a duo in the trio. And he will never be what Harry is to Hermione.

Because he knows why they are together. He knows if Hermione and he were together the fighting would be endless, the silences would last for days and he doesn't know if he could take a break from the habit of taking swipes at her. And the same for her. Squabbling is what comes naturally to Hermione and he. It's something they slip into because it's familiar and easy, not that they are actually annoyed with each other. This is Ron and Hermione and it's what they do. It's amusing to see her eyes narrow and a witty remark to be fired back into his face. He likes it, it's what he's used to. But could they have ever made a relationship out of it? Sure, the making up after rows would've been great according to all the sexual tension everyone was always claiming they had. But who would want a relationship like that? Constant arguing and making up? Fractured, cracked, broken. Almost defective.

But Harry and Hermione on the other hand...They balance each other out. He lessens her tendency to snap and stress and close herself off while in return Hermione softens Harry out, taking away his angry outburst and she reminds him that's he's not only the boy-who-lived, he's just Harry as well. And by Merlin, he can see this. He's not quite as un-observant as everyone thinks he is. He can see how they work together, and it hurts sometimes. They're two different people, but he swears that when they're together, that somehow, they seem to mold together as one. When they're sat side by side on the sofa next to the fire, just chatting, or when they're walking side by side to lessons, their shoulders brushing. He's on the outside when they're like this.

It's like they're two halves of a whole, as clichéd as it sounds, he thinks. He realises that throughout the whole time of them being friends, he's never seen them apart, not really. Harry without Hermione there to back him up, offer both emotional and magical support is hard to imagine. And Hermione without Harry, well apart from the stupid incidence with the firebolt, it's never happened. To think of one is to include the other. Especially since he walked out. Oh, he came back, in the end, but there are some scars that will never heal. Even he knows that.

And people question him. 'Does it hurt to see them together?' Of course it does, but what kind of best friend would he be if he didn't support them? So he answers; 'No. They're meant for each other, anyone can see that.' And people call them boring. Ron wonders how anyone could consider them so. If you can call deep meaningful conversations held with glances only and intimate touches every now and again boring, then yes they are. Besides, he has never see them truly 'together'. He pushes that thought away roughly and rolls over in his bed, pulling the covers more tightly around him. He thinks back to the night when he had saved Harry from that damn pool, and the damn horcrux and it's bloody taunting. Funny, he thinks, that in the end the horcrux had been the one to speak the truth, even though they weren't in a relationship then.

'I love her like a sister and I reckon she feels the same way about me. It's always been like that. I thought you knew.'

Harry had given his word that that was all there was to it. But they both knew what came next. But then again, he should've known, he thinks, drawing the covers up to his chin. What only child truly knows what love between siblings feels like? But it's Harry, and it's Hermione, so he does the only thing he can and moves on.

**AN: Please review, I'd love to hear something on how I can improve my writing skills, this story, if you enjoyed it, or even if you didn't. Please? Gods, I sound like I'm begging too much….**


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